Yours Faithfully, Amanda

December 7, 2018 Dear Jane, At this point, it is utterly ridiculous that I have not finished recounting my tales of England from this past AUGUST (I am truly ashamed), but I am determined to finish never-the-less. After all, it is never too late to tell your favorite, 18th-century authoress about your holiday that took place five months prior. So without further ado, I give you: England Part Five. When last I left you, Rachael and I had arrived in York, checked into the Black Swan Inn and partook in a delightful ghost tour of the city with our guide, Mark. To be sure, our trip was going too fast; I couldn't believe we only had a few days left. I found myself being every bit as dramatic as Mary Crawford when she exclaimed the above quotation in Mansfield Park . I wanted time to stop so I could stay in York forever! Unfortunately, however, Rachael and I WERE dictated by a watch and the next day was Monday, the sixth of August (exactly five months ago as of yesterday...how for...

September 10, 2016 Dear Jane, I must confess that the thought of writing you a letter which perfectly conveys through words not only my adventures in Portland, Oregon, but also my time since returning is quite daunting. In fact, I have even been coming up with every excuse not to do so! For some nameless reason (perhaps laziness?), I detest having to write detailed accounts of events in my life (which may come as a surprise since I have been writing letters to you since the Year of Our Lord, Two-Thousand and Thirteen), but that is precisely why I must force myself to follow through and write them. After all, you know as well as anyone that if I do not record these memories there is little chance of my remembering them in the years or even days to come. Happily, once I begin writing I soon realize that the dread was all in the anticipation and not in the actual act of writing...for the most part. Now, I shall do my utmost to provide a diverting and detailed account of my de...

July 18, 2016 Dear Jane, Although it saddens me to pen a letter to you on this day, the 199th anniversary of your untimely passing, it also gives me great joy as so many admirers are paying tribute to your extraordinary life and talent. As a faithful Janeite, I would be remiss if I did not do so as well. Now, as I often find myself writing short poems to express my feelings, it should come as no surprise to you that I was inspired to write one this morning to commemorate this bittersweet occasion. It is as follows: Remembering Jane A watercolor of you painted by your beloved sister, Cassandra. By: Amanda Forker How we wish we could have met you, Our dearest Jane Austen, For in all of your stories, We find ourselves lost in. We thank you for the heroines, And the fine heroes you wrote, For on them your loyal Janeites, Will surely always dote. Miss Austen, you have bewitched us, Both body and soul, And because of your novels, We Janeites are whole. So we remem...

May 13, 2016 Dear Jane, Before I begin, I must tell you that this letter will be centered entirely on myself, although, I dare say my letters always are. But what is one to do when one has so much to tell? Is it selfish of me to want to report my various adventures to my favourite authoress? If it is, then I heartily accept my selfishness for, I agree, there really is no hope of a cure. My, what adventures I have had of late! It has once again been quite some time since last I wrote, but I am sure you are not surprised for as you know, young ladies of little fortune living in New York City must always do their utmost to stay busy and employed by something each day. Although, as it is only four o'clock on a Friday afternoon and I am writing you a letter, you will surely be forced to conclude that today was no such day. I must confess that I was not so fortunate as to get any paid work on this rain-filled, spring day, but one must not let this affect one too greatly for tomorro...